


Dinner with an Ex-Spy

by mother_finch



Series: Dinner with an Ex-Spy (Loose Continuation) Series [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: RootxShaw prompt- Established relationship. Shaw and Root are tasked with taking care of Gen while she stays in their apartment during one of her breaks from school. Gen notices the relationship and is curious, so at dinner one night she asks many questions like, "How did you two get together?", " Are you guys in love?", or "Are you guys going to get married?" Shaw is annoyed and grumpy, but Root is having the time of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner with an Ex-Spy

Walking down the New York City strip, Shaw takes in the scene around her. With Bear at her side, she studies people, looking for anyone to avoid- any Samaritan operatives in the area.

"Hey, Sweetie," Root’s voice comes through on Shaw’s earwig. "You busy?"

"Just walking the dog, why? Is there a number?" Shaw asks, anticipation in her words at the chance to pounce.

"No, but," Root shuffles, and Shaw hears a large crowd of people in the background. "I thought we could meet up? Grab coffee or something."

Shaw contemplates the idea, rolling it around in her head, not wanting to sound eager or completely disinterested. “Sure, I guess. Coffee shop off of fifth street?” She offers, looking at the café two stores ahead.

"I’ll be there."

Shaw comes to the coffee shop and closes her eyes momentarily in the heat radiating just outside the building. She stands with Bear at her side, and waits, breath billowing into the air. Suddenly, there is a tap on her shoulder. Shaw turns, but sees no one.

* * *

 

"I knew it was you!" A child’s voice pipes up in delight as two hands encircle her waist. Sameen casts her head slightly down, her eyes meeting fluffy red curls and a lively face. "I mean, I just assumed you’d be in this area," the child pulls back, "and I started sectioning off from there. Is this your dog?"

She bends down to pet Bear, who wags his tail with bliss.

"He’ll eat you." Shaw deadpans, watching the child.

"Oh, no he won’t! You won’t eat me, will you boy?" She talks in a goofy voice to the dog, rubbing him affectionately around his ears.

"Do me a favor?" Shaw asks, and the girl stands. "Don’t ever work as a government spy. You’re too good at this kind of thing." The little girl glows at the compliment, and Shaw gives her a small smile.

"Make a friend?" Root asks, coming up beside Shaw. She peers over at the girl with interest.

"We go back," Shaw replies casually, taking a quick glance Root’s way.

The curly-haired girl sticks out her hand. “I’m Genrika Zhirova. Ex-spy. You can call me Gen though.” Root shoots Shaw an impressed glance, and shakes Gen’s hand.

"I’m Root."

"So, what are you doing back here?" Shaw asks, looking at a smiling Gen. Behind her features, gears are turning in her young mind.

"School break. We get a week off, so I thought I’d come looking for you. It’s been a while."

Shaw nods, trying to hide the grim expression she wants to show. Is Gen safe here? She wonders, but continues to smile at the girl.

"You found me."

"And I found  _her_ ,” Gen gestures to Root, and her tone makes Shaw shift.

"Yeah, her too."

"Do you want to grab something to drink with us?" Root asks sweetly, nodding to the coffee shop. "I don’t know if coffee is a good idea, but I’m sure they have something."

"That would be nice," Gen says, holding open the door.

The three walk in, and the soft hum of coffee machines and the heat of oven baked pastries relaxes their cold muscles.

"So, Shaw, do you still do-" Gen lowers her voice, "- vigilante stuff?"

Sameen nods, and then gestures to Root. “We both do.”

” _Ooh_ , you work together?” She asks, eyes fascinated. Root can’t conceal her amused smile.

"Yeah. Sam and I have been doing this for a while. Kinda fun," Root tells Gen, looking over at Shaw fondly. Shaw rolls her eyes, and Gen watches the two closely.

"Are you staying anywhere?" Shaw asks, wanting to get onto a different topic than their missions.

"No," Gen replies honestly, taking a sip of the hot chocolate just brought out for her. "I might hang out in my old place for a whi-"

"No." Shaw says instantly, voice set. Gen looks at her weird.

"Why not?"

"It’s not safe there." Sameen replies, her tone softening. "You of all people should know you never go back to breached headquarters." Gen smiles at her words.

"You can come home with us." Root offers, met by Shaw coughing on a mouthful of coffee.

” _Us?_ ”

"Yes,  _us_ ,” Root says, looking at Shaw with stern eyes. Shaw tries to read them, but can’t. “I’ll take her to my apartment, and you can drop off Bear.” Then looking at Gen, she smiles. “It’ll give us time to get acquainted, considering the two of you are already such good friends.”

_________\ If Your Number’s Up /_________

Shaw stands out front of Root’s apartment, listening. With Bear back at the station, having fresh food, water, and a new toy- Shaw’s attempt at stalling- she walked the few blocks to Root’s fourth story apartment. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in there before, she had, just not with another person. A person as curious and open as Gen. Sighing, she rummages through the things in her coat pocket, and pulls out a key. Walking in, she’s met by loud music and rambunctious laughter. Sameen locks the door behind her, then travels slowly to the source of the sounds, discarding her jacket and shoes along the way. Coming to the end of the small corridor, she turns left to the kitchen. She freezes at the sight before her.

Chaos. Chaos was before her, and it made its name known. Towels and rags are tossed on the floor and counter, flour coating the far wall like volcano ash. Mysterious tan batter pools on the table, and the oven screams for attention. There’s three cracked eggs on the floor, and a million dishes. A smoke alarm goes off. And in the mists of all the bedlam is a sticky-fingered Gen and a flour-spattered Root. Gen grabs a small handful of the batter, winging it at Root. Root dodges it easily, and the mess hits the cabinet with a squish. Coming straight for her, Root picks her up around the waist, swinging her. Gen’s laugh carries throughout the house with the kindness of spring, and Root’s wide, toothy smile is the sun.

Seemingly at the same time, Gen and Root see Shaw standing in the doorway, and halt in their tracks. Gen gasps. Putting her down, Root tries to compose herself, but cannot stop a quaint smile from peaking through.

"Hi, Sweetie," she says with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Hi…" Shaw’s voice is cautious as she slowly steps into the ruined room. "What happened..?"

"Well, Gen and I were trying to make dinner but…"

"Things didn’t go the way we planned," Gen finishes, hands clasped behind her back.

"I may be a reformed killer and hacker, but Martha Stewart I am _not_ ,” Root tries with a witty tone in her light voice. She walks over to the oven and starts to fan out the fire alarm; after a moment its beeping dies out. Shaw merely sighs, not letting a smile escape her lips.

"I’ll order take out."

And twenty minutes later, the three of them sit at a medium sized table in the dining room. A good sized room, but too oddly placed to be much of anything, a table and drawer were placed there as useless space- until now. The kitchen was still a wreck, but no longer smoking, and the entire apartment smells distinctly of charred chicken. At least everyone is finally clean.

"Nothing says professional like Chinese takeout on glass plates," Shaw says with a small smirk Root’s way, as she scoops out some rice and chicken. They sit on opposite sides of the table, and Gen sits on left of the square wood. She watches as Shaw inhales the plate, and casts a wary look at Root.

"Is she always like that?" Root nods very seriously. Shaw sucks in a noodle, eyes amused.

"Do you live together?" Gen asks, grabbing some food from a container.

"No, Shaw’s apartment is down the other way."

"Why don’t you?" Gen asks, looking at Root curiously.

"Have you  _seen_  her kitchen?” Shaw replies indignantly, but she smiles broadly; Gen laughs.

"Well if you don’t live together… do you sleep together?" Shaw’s eyes widen, along with Root’s delighted smile.

"That’s  _not_  your business.” Shaw spits back with a scowl. Gen looks down at her plate with a sly smile.

"Taking that as a yes."

Silently, Shaw simmers.

"Do you like your school?" Root asks, sparing Shaw any more dread. Even though the question is posed for Gen, Root’s eyes never leave Shaw’s.

"No, it’s rather boring. I’m not allowed to use the computers anymore."

"Why?"

"They don’t like me changing the school lunch menu, or playing Beck on every screen at once, or…" she trails off.

"Or what?" Shaw interrogates.

"Or spying on people through the built in microphones and cameras around the school," Gen mumbles into her arm. Root smiles with pride.

"My kind of kid." she says endearingly.

"Have you kissed before?" Gen asks, already jumping on her previous train of questions. Shaw remains silent, and Root happily answers.

"Yes," Shaw glowers at the obviously jolly time Root is having with their own little investigation. A twelve year old can get out of us what no torture squad ever has, She thinks, disgruntled.

"Are you going to get married?"

Silence.

Root looks over at Shaw, and the two of them have a silent conversation with their eyes. There doesn’t seem to be a clear solution to the problem within them.

"Um, we’ll get back to you on that one," Root says at last, and Gen nods. With a moment of down time, Shaw shovels in a fork full of rice.

"How about kids?" The rice flies from Shaw’s mouth like a solidified spit take, and she chokes, eyes wide.

” _What?!_ ”

"Kids. You know, us  _tiny people_?”

"I know what they are," Shaw snaps, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "But do you really think the job we do has time for that sort of thing?" Shaking her head, she looks over to Root who wears a smug and jubilant countenance. Shaw’s eyes flare with the words shut-the-Hell-up, although Root says nothing. But her eyes say a thousand words and pages of blank paper are filled within their glow. Shaw looks away and back to Gen as she continues to speak.

"Well, I can be your ‘sort-of’ kid." When no one says a word, she continues. "When I’m not away at school and you’re not away at work. Like this." Shaw looks down, having nothing to say- stunned into an awed silence. Clearing her throat, she says,

"Want to go see what’s on TV while we clean up?"

Gen nods, then stands.

"First room on your left," Root instructs, and in a flash, Gen’s out of sight. Shaw lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

"Kids," she mutters, clearing the table as Root grabs the containers. They walk into the demolished kitchen, maneuvering around the spills.

"I dunno, Sam," Root says, leaning against the fridge to look at Shaw. "You’d make a great mother."

Shaw snorts, tossing the dishes into the already filled sink. “Oh, yeah, because trigger-happy  _killer_  will definitely win over  _all_  the soccer moms.”Shaw says sarcastically; Root gives her a cross look. “Between my lack of social skills and your cooking the thing would die!”

"Sameen, I’m being serious." Root says, turning to store the containers in the fridge. When she comes back around, she takes Shaw by the elbows, looking her in the eyes. "You’re kind-"

"To  _you_.”

"Loving-"

"Barely."

"Gentle-"

"Are you seeing someone behind my back?" Shaw looks amused at her ability to counter Root’s compliments, but Root merely roles her eyes.

"I just think you’d do great," Root says at last as they come to the living room. The television is on and Gen is transfixed.

"Well, you heard  _her_ ,” Shaw says, gesturing forward. “She’s our unofficially-adopted-part-time child.” Root shakes her head with an entertained smile, then heads to sit on the couch with Gen.

______________\ We’ll Find You /_______________

 _How did I even get here_ , Shaw thinks, looking from side to side. In the mists of popcorn runs and bathroom breaks, Shaw now finds herself in the center of the couch. Arms pinned to her sides, she watches the TV with the stillness of a toy soldier. Gen nudges her left arm.

"What?" Shaw says discreetly, eyes peering down at Gen.

"Put your arm on the sofa back." She replies almost inaudibly.

"Wha-  _why?_ " Shaw asks, looking at Gen full on now. Gen opens her eyes in an ‘it’s obvious’ fashion.

Again, her voice barely carries. “She wants to lean in.” Shaw’s brow knits, and she glances with the corner of her eye at Root. She’s deeply into the movie, not hearing a word of the conversation.

Reluctantly, Shaw moves her arm away from her body, and drapes it across the back of the couch. Nothing happens at first, but sure enough, Root gradually leans in on Shaw, still watching the film intently. Shaw watches Root, fascinated, until she is leaning all the way against her right side. She looks back over to Gen, who has a broad smile and a thumbs up.

"You’re too young for this," Shaw mutters.

"No, I’m  _not_! I’m  _twelve._ " She spits back in an indignant hush, laying down. She lies sideways, head on Shaw’s leg, and watches the movie with drooping eyelids. Something thuds softly on Shaw’s shoulder. When Sameen looks right once more, she sees Root’s eyes are closed, and her head is leaning on her shoulder. She sighs, debating a moment, and then takes her arm from the back of the couch and wraps it around Root.

In a sleepy, soft voice, Gen asks, “Is she ‘the one’?”

Shaw nods.

"Do you love her?"

"Yeah, Gen."

"How’d you know?" She asks with a small yawn.

"When I finally shut my  _trap_ ,” Shaw says with a drowsy smile, “I could hear what that radio you told me I had was saying.”


End file.
